


come what may

by werebothstubborn



Series: phandom bingo [2]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Commitment, Gen, M/M, Phandom Fic Fests: Bingo, References to Sex, Sibling Relationship, Thinking About the Future, corn's a good sister y'know?, we stan the lester children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 19:15:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16270613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/werebothstubborn/pseuds/werebothstubborn
Summary: dan's been thinking a lot about the future lately. at the penthouse in brisbane one early morning, cornelia gives him some advice.





	come what may

**Author's Note:**

> thank you to my loves [rose](https://moon-boye.tumblr.com/) and [tash](http://philsroots.tumblr.com/) for their magic beta touch to this fic and helping to make it so so much better. written for the Phandom Fic Fests bingo challenge, prompts "sibling relationship" and "commitment".

The coffee’s only just finished brewing when Cornelia stumbles into the kitchen with a sleepy smile and a blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a shawl. Dan doesn’t blame her. Australia has only begun its thawing process in these last few days – and even then, mornings are still quite frigid. If Dan were to step outside right now, he’s almost positive he’d see the mist of his own breath billowing out in front of him when he exhales.

Corn takes a seat on one of the breakfast bar stools, tugs the blanket around her shoulders tighter. She looks at Dan expectantly, eyes glinting with mirth. “Well, are you just gonna stand there?” she says, voice lilting at every syllable. “Get me a coffee.”

“Are your legs broken?”

“No, but you’re already over there, so why should I bother doing it myself?”

Dan rolls his eyes and mutters _lazy arse_ to himself, spinning around to open the cupboard above the Black  & Decker on the counter. When they arrived in Brisbane two days ago, Phil had made sure they both knew where to find everything before they fell into bed on the first night because _coffee is important, Dan, and we can’t stay caffeinated if we don’t know where the damn mugs are_. 

(Maybe they’d run into that kind of trouble before.)

Dan rummages around in the cupboard until he finds two ceramic mugs. One is bright yellow, and the other looks remarkably like the colour of Phil’s eyes. He keeps that one for himself and sets the yellow mug down carefully in front of Corn, grabbing the pot off the burner to fill them both to the brim. Dan can feel her eyes following his every movement, feel as they pause on the puffed-up skin beneath his eyes, and it makes him squirm. His hand shakes as he sets the coffee pot back on the burner, and he can’t meet her gaze when he turns back around.

She’s quiet for a minute, tracing the lines of his face with her eyes. “You look exhausted,” she says finally. Softly. “Did you even sleep last night?”

Dan doesn’t say anything. Instead, he wraps both of his hands around the mug, lets it warm them, protect them from the chilly morning. He raises it to his lips and blows on the coffee gently. It’s still too hot to drink.

“You aren’t slick, you know,” Corn says, nodding to where his fingers are trying to siphon all the heat they can gather. Dan avoids her gaze. He doesn’t need her to tell him he’s bitten his nails down to the nubs. Sleep pricks at his eyes, dries them out.

Dan huffs out a humourless laugh and sets his mug back down. “We’re in the middle of a world tour, Corn.”

“And you still have another two days before your next show. You should be trying to get as much rest as you can.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, pinches the bridge of his nose. “Yeah, well. It’s easier said than done.”

“Can’t believe Phil didn’t completely wear you out last night,” Corn mutters. Dan’s not sure he was meant to hear it, but one glance up at the playful smirk toying at her lips is enough to tell him all he needs to know. Heat rises up his neck, lodges itself into the small patch of skin just above the right side of his jaw.

“ _Shut up_ ,” he whines, sticking out his bottom lip. “You’re the worst sister ever.”

Corn winks. “And don’t you forget it.”

Something flutters gently beneath his ribs. She always knows what to say to make him feel slightly less shit. Dan leans forward conspiratorially. “I was thinking about taking two cups back to the room so we could enjoy it in bed this morning, maybe go another round, but then _you_ showed up.”

“You disgust me,” she says, grinning softly. “But you don’t have to stay just because I’m here. By all means, go wake up your man. I’m perfectly fine on my own.”

Dan slides onto a stool across from where Corn’s sitting and raises his mug to his lips again. The coffee’s still a bit too hot, but he takes a big gulp of it anyway. It burns his throat on the way down, lingers bitter on his tongue, and it’s just the way he likes it. 

They lapse into silence, but it’s not the uncomfortable kind – not at first, at least. Corn stares out the window, sipping her own coffee slowly, lets her mind wander while she’s still in the early morning haze. Dan tries to do the same, tries to visit the deep recesses of his mind without dwelling in them, but that’s never been a strong suit of his, not when he’s left to his own thoughts. 

And lately, lately there’s been a thought gnawing at the back of his mind that he hasn’t quite figured out how to talk about yet. But maybe Corn can help. He waits until his mug is half-empty before he brings it up.

“Hey Corn?” His voice slices sharply into the silence, and it makes him squeeze his eyes shut. He hopes he’s not disturbing her.

“Hmm?” Her eyes drift back towards him.

“Does it ever bother you that you and Martyn aren’t married yet?”

Cornelia frowns, sets her mug back on the breakfast bar and folds her hands in her lap. “No,” she says slowly. “Mooken and I are happy just the way we are, and a piece of paper isn’t going to make things any better or worse.” She squares her shoulders, cocks her head to the side. “You’re not trying to suggest that we’d be happier with some vows and a kid, are you? Because I’ve heard enough of that from Kath.”

Dan gulps and shakes his head. “It’s not—” He drops his gaze to his coffee, tightens his grip on the mug that matches Phil’s eyes. If he squints, he can almost pretend Phil is looking back at him right now. “Never mind,” he sighs.

Corn stretches a hand across the countertop and lays it over Dan’s, squeezing lightly. “Hey,” she says softly. “You and Phil have been together for almost as long as Mooken and I have. Does it bother _you_ that you haven’t gotten married?”

He’s not really sure how to answer her at first, so he stares at his coffee and picks at his fingernails until she presses down a bit firmer on his hand to urge him to stop. He sighs. “A little bit, yeah,” he mumbles finally. His eyes sting, and he’s doing his best to fight off the tears prickling in the corners. He glances up at her. “But also no. I don’t know.”

“Have you talked to Phil about how you feel?”

“No. It’s stupid anyway.”

“It’s not stupid if it’s bothering you.”

Dan sighed, burying his face in his hands. “Well, I mean. It really doesn’t make a difference if we’re married or not, does it? Like you said, we’re committed and we don’t need a piece of paper to tell us and the rest of the world how happy we are.”

“But?”

“But I’ve just been thinking. About what happens after the tour. I mean, we’ve both talked about it and we definitely want kids. And I know we won’t be ready like the second we get back or probably even a year from then, but we’d probably want to adopt, and adoption’s so much easier when you can prove to the government that neither of you are about to just walk out and abandon some kid, and—”

“Hey Dan?” Cornelia cuts him off, and he snaps his jaw shut.

“Hmm?”

“That sounds wonderful.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I think you’ll be great dads.”

It feels like she’s just lifted the entire world off his shoulders. Dan hasn’t even finished expelling everything he’s been feeling lately, but Corn’s here and she hears him and today that’s enough. He lets out a breath he hasn’t realized he’s been holding. “There’s nothing I want more,” he breathes. “I think it’ll be amazing. And I wouldn’t mind it, you know. Being married to him. We wouldn’t have to change anything about us, and I think it could be good. Really good.”

Corn picks up her mug again, takes a sip. “So what’s the problem then? Why do you feel like you can’t talk to Phil about this?”

Dan feels something warm bloom in his chest. Corn, the caregiver. His sister. After all these years, he thinks he can call her that. Her hair isn’t as bright today as it was when they first set out. It could probably use another dye soon, and the dark circles under her eyes suggest that maybe she hasn’t adjusted to the time change quite yet. This is the woman Martyn loves. Martyn, his brother, and Cornelia, his sister. Who gives a fuck if they aren’t married?

He smiles sadly, picks up his mug. “I guess I just don’t want him to feel pressured? It’s not like getting married would make our relationship any better or worse. And we want kids, but it’s not like we’re about to start talking to adoption agencies tomorrow. I think we’re in a really good place right now. Like, what if I say something and it ruins this really good thing we’ve already got going? I just. I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. About what it would be like to wake up at the crack of dawn and drag Phil to the kitchen with me to make pancakes for our kid.”

Corn smiles softly. “I think you should talk to him. He’d want to know how you feel.”

Dan sighs. “You’re right.”

“I know.” She grins, and he can’t help the matching one that cracks across his own face.

They settle back into another comfortable silence. Cornelia turns to look out the window again, and Dan focuses on sipping his coffee, thinking about how to bring it up to Phil. He could do it now. Slip back under the covers, fit himself against Phil’s back, warm his cold toes by pressing them to Phil’s skin. He could wrap his arms around Phil’s middle and wake him up with a kiss burned into the back of his neck, and then he could talk. Tell the man who knows him best what he still doesn’t know – just how Dan feels about marriage. He could do it. 

Dan sets his mug back down on the countertop. “Hey Corn?” he says quietly, planting his feet on the ground.

“Yeah?” She looks back at him.

“Thanks. For listening.”

Crow’s feet creep out from the corners of Cornelia’s eyes as she smiles again. She hops off her stool and snatches Dan’s mug from the counter. “I’ll do the washing up.”

Dan shakes his head as he watches her flit into the kitchen and turn on the tap. He’s still chuckling quietly to himself when he makes his way back towards the bedroom. The Lesters sure are something.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading :))
> 
>  
> 
> [like and reblog on tumblr](https://laddyplester.tumblr.com/post/178967694294/come-what-may)


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